


The One Death Hated

by LavenderKisses



Series: 13 Nights of Halloween [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27153725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderKisses/pseuds/LavenderKisses
Summary: Skull is the Immortal Stuntman, the one death hated. Or is he? It's All Hallow's Eve, when the veil between the world of the living and the spirit world is thinnest, and Harry has to work.
Series: 13 Nights of Halloween [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979191
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91





	The One Death Hated

Renato Bianchi sat at the bar and motioned to the bartender for another drink. The bartender nodded and fixed him a scotch on the rocks and slid the glass to him. The dark-eyed italian picked up the glass and raised it in thanks before taking a sip. He glanced around at the other patrons. There was a woman with long, blonde hair sitting further down the bar, giggling with her redheaded friend as a pair of men flirted with them. Two men sat at different tables by themselves, one drinking from a glass, the other from a bottle of beer. It was a fairly slow night, but the young man didn’t expect much different so late in the middle of the week.

His view was suddenly blocked by a leather-clad arm. He sipped from his glass as he traced the arm with his eyes up to a broad shoulder, and then a handsome, pointed face with dark purple eyes. The man smiled down at him charmingly. “Hey there, may I join you?”

Renato motioned to the seat beside him in permission and received another smile as the lithe man slid smoothly onto the barstool. The man held two fingers up to the bartender, and two drinks were placed down in front of them, one for the stranger and a fresh one for Renato.

Putting down his empty glass, he accepted the new one. “Thank you, stranger.”

Purple-painted lips quirked up in an amused smirk. “You can call me Craniu.” He introduced himself, a Romanian accent peaking through his italian. He leaned closer. “And what may I call you?”

Renato gave an answering smirk, his pupils widening in a show of his interest. “I’m Renato, but you can call me Ren.”

The leather-clad man leaned against Renato, and a warm breath brushed his ear, causing a shiver to go up his spine. “Well, Ren, how would you like to go somewhere a little more.. Comfortable. I can guarantee you the drinks are worth it.” Crainu asked in a husky whisper.

Renato tilted his head up, letting his lips brush a pail jaw before meeting purple eyes with his own dark brown. “Well, I’m always looking for a new place with good drinks. Why don’t you show me this place of your’s?”

A salacious grin was his response, and Craniu threw his glass back and drained the remainder of his scotch before standing and offering an arm to Renato. Renato did the same, took Craniu’s arm, and let himself be led out of the bar.

The two walked along the cobbled streets of Renato’s small hometown, flirting and laughing, trading stories about growing up in Italy and Romania. Renato learned that Craniu had run away as a child and joined the circus as a stuntman, and in turn he shared how he was a tutor and self-defense instructor.

Craniu led Renato on a path to the outskirts of the city and to a stone cottage. He opened the door and showed him into a small but cozy home. The floor of the sitting room was covered by a thick, beige rug, and a matching leather couch and chair were placed in front of a stone fireplace. Craniu led Renato to the couch and motioned for him to have a seat. He leaned down and brushed his lips across Renato’s. “I’ll go and get those drinks.” He murmured.

Renato smirked. “Just remember, you promised me better drinks than at the Golden Flames.”

Craniu smirked sexily. “Well, we will let you be the judge and you can tell me.” He pressed his lips firmly against Renato’s, and the dark-eyed man let his eyes fall closed as a groan worked it’s way from his throat, his groin stirring in interest. Just as he was reaching up to cup the back of Craniu’s head and pull him closer, the purple-haired male pulled back and Renato couldn’t help the whine that escaped him. Purple lips smiled wickedly as the stuntman stood and turned to the kitchen.

Renato could hear the clink of glasses as the other fixed their drinks. He looked around the living room and took in the little knick knacks that decorated the place. There were ceramic animals on the mantle of the fireplace: a chameleon, monkey, eagle, frog, alligator, and an octopus. There was also what looked to be a squirrel, but it was cracked as if it had been shattered and glued back together, or maybe broken repeatedly and then repaired. For some reason, the sight of it sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine.

Craniu sat next to him, startling Renato. He hadn’t even heard the other man reenter the room. A hand with long fingers held out a glass to him, and when he took it, the same hand trailed up his arm, across his shoulders, and then wrapped around his side, pulling him closer to the other man. He took a sip of the drink to hide the slight blush he could feel heating his cheeks. His eyes widened slightly. It tasted like cherries, and was sweet and bubbly. “This is good.” he said, his voice showing his surprise.

A rough chuckle sounded close to his ear, and warm, wet lips trailed along his neck, nipping at times. His stomach tightened in a knot and an embarrassing groan left his lips. He barely noticed when the stuntman put his own drink on the coffee table in front of them, but he definitely noticed when the hand began making it’s way up his leg.

Renato gulped his drink and put his own glass down before partially turning to face the other man, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him close, meeting his lips agressively. He felt the other’s hands grab his back and ass, pulling him closer. The two kissed sloppily, rubbing at each other. Renato felt himself start to breathe heavily, and he pulled back slightly as he started to feel dizzy. Lips and teeth chased his neck, and he squirmed in pleasure even as he felt himself going weak. He fell back, and a blurry white and purple figure leaning over him was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.

When Renato regained consciousness, the first thing he noticed was that he was cold. He panicked and started trying to sit up, but felt cold, metal shackles on his wrists and ankles, keeping him spread-eagle on what felt like smooth stone. His eyes were covered, and he wasn’t sure if it was a thick covering, or if his surroundings were as dark as they seemed. He swallowed, his throat feeling dry and scratchy, and he tried to call out. “H-hello?” he managed after a few tries. It was weak, but loud enough for him to hear an echo.

He heard a shuffle and felt warm air on his ear as he heard a familiar throaty chuckle. “Hi, Renato. Did you enjoy your nap?”

Renato licked his lips nervously, trying to wet them but his tongue was also dry and felt very cottony. “C-craniu? W-What’s going on?” He asked, trying to figure out the situation and how he could get away.

“Oh, Reborn, let us not pretend, Senpai! You know Skull-sama! After all, we were part of the same rainbow for oh so very long.” A breathy voice whispered in his ear. A warm hand slowly ran down his chest and across his stomach. Fingers traced lightly up the inside of one thigh, and then the other. He felt a flush of shame color his neck and chest as his body unwillingly responded to the touch. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Craniu! My name is Renato, not Reborn! And I’ve never met you before tonight. What are you talking about a rainbow?” He asked in panicked confusion. 

His head jerked to the side as he was hit. “Now now, Senpai. I know you always called me lackey, but surely after so long you have figured out I'm not stupid.” The voice hissed. A low chuckle started and lips kissed down his neck and chest. Bites were scattered across his chest in no particular pattern, and a tongue traced his abbs.

Renato started struggling, jerking against the chains. “Please, Craniu, please! I don’t know what you are talking about! Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything, but please let me go!” He jerked harder against the shackles and felt bruises start to form as they cut into his skin.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me!” the voice hissed out, hitting him again, and again. Then, all went still. He couldn’t feel the other man, and the only things he could hear were his fast, panicked breathing, and the pants of the other man.

A low, demented chuckle sounded through the room. “Okay, Reborn. If that’s how you want to play, then I’ll just have to remind you.” His heart beat so fast in his chest that he felt it would jump out of his ribs at any moment. He heard a shuffling as the other man once again drew closer. He felt a cold, sharp pain at his collarbone and screamed as a searing pain drew slowly down the side of his chest and abdomen. “Well, Reborn, we were chosen. Chosen by that bastard Kawahira and his bitch pawn Luce to be cursed. Cursed to live until we were drained.” Another slow cut down the opposite side of his chest. “But they didn’t know, did they Reborn? That some of us were already cursed.” He felt the knife along his thigh, his own blood warming his skin as it welled in the cuts and then flowed out over him. “They should have known. It was even in my title! The Great Skull, the man death hates!” A throaty chuckle echoed in the room. “But don’t worry, Senpai. I will save you. I will save all of you!” A high, mad laugh mixed with screams as Renato felt himself being sliced into over and over until he finally passed out from fear and pain.

It was once again All Hallow’s Eve, also known as Halloween night, and the veil between the living and the spirit world was at its thinnest. Hadrian Peverell, once known as Harry Potter and now known as the Master of Death, had to work. He was making rounds to check on his reapers. This night tended to be especially busy for them, as there was a higher number of deaths as well as the reapers having to monitor souls crossing the veil to visit and to escort souls across the veil who had initially refused to move on when they had died.

A young-looking reaper with red eyes and white hair appeared before the entity, bowing in respect. “Master, there is something I think you should know about.”

Hadrian raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is that, Lizzie?”

“There have been a lot of souls collected from one particular spot. Hundreds of violent deaths, and they all follow a pattern in looks and manner of death.” She reported.

The green-eyed being hummed. “Sounds like a serial killer.” He murmured. “It also sounds like a job for the mortal police. Why do you think I need to get involved?” He inquired curiously.

Here the reaper hesitated before replying. “Well, normally I wouldn’t have thought so. But.. This has been happening for over three hundred years.” She replied. 

Both of Hadrian’s eyebrows raised in surprise at that bit of information. “Hmm.. I see. Thank you for telling me about this, Lizzie. I shall look into it myself.” He smiled kindly and placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Why don’t you go ahead and patrol the rest of your territory? Keep clear of that area. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

Lizzie smiled and nodded. “Of course, Master. Have a good night.” She said as she faded out to do his bidding.

Hadrian closed his eyes and zeroed in on the area she had told him about and took a step through space and time, coming out in a stone room underground. He looked around to see if he could puzzle out what was going on. His heart grew heavy in sorrow as he began to understand the situation.

On the walls were hundreds of photos, all of them grouped by features. Men with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing military fatigues were in one group, androgynous figures with dark hair and purple eyes in another. Men of chinese descent with dark hair and eyes, all wearing martial arts gi made a third group, men with what looked to be natural green hair in a fourth, smaller group. Men with olive skin and dark hair and eyes in suits made the fifth group. The sixth stood group stood out. Torn pictures of pregnant women with blue hair, all of them slashed and defaced with markers. All of the photos were from different decades and centuries, showing the progression of style and technology in each. There were bones in piles and hang from the ceilings, trophies from each of the victims. 

Surrounding the altar in the middle of the room were hundreds of skulls. On the altar was a naked male that had been skinned and dismembered. Judging by the hair and clothing that had been cut off of him, as well as the tone of what skin Hadrian could see through the blood, the man had likely fit the profile of the men in the fifth group of photos, the ones under a picture of a dark hair, dark-eyed male in a black suit with a yellow tie and an orange ribbon around his fedora.

In front of the group of photos, a man was kneeling on the floor, hunched in on himself, his shoulders shaking. “Reborn.. Senpai.. I will save you. I won’t let you suffer like this. Death hates me, but I will make sure he can’t refuse you.” He vowed.

Heart breaking at the shattered man, Hadrian made himself corporeal and slowly approached him. He kneeled on the floor just behind the figure and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The man startled and spun, losing his balance and swinging his fist at the perceived threat. 

Hadrian let the fist pass through him and that caused the immortal stuntman to come up short. Smiling gently, the Master of Death cupped Skull’s face lovingly. “Oh, Skull. I am so, so sorry.” He said, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the pale man’s, meeting purple eyes with his own luminescent green.

Tears leaked from broken eyes and desperate hands grabbed at his shoulders. Hadrian allowed it. “D-Death? Is that you? Are you finally going to release me from this curse? Please, I don’t know what I did to make you hate me, but I’m sorry! I’m so sorry..” He begged, sobbing.

“Skull, shh.. It’s okay.” The dark-haired male whispered. He wrapped his arms around the leather-clad male and pulled him into his lap, where the purplenette curled into him like a small child. “Skull, I don’t hate you. I never hated you. I didn’t know what happened.. Your flames are so strong, they kept you healed and alive. Your soul never came to my domain, so I didn’t know it was being held against its will.” He kissed the man’s forehead. “That’s no excuse, but please, please forgive me. You were never meant to live this long. Your soul was not meant for so many lifetimes.” He said, holding and rocking the man.

Long fingers clutched at his shirt as if he were a child waking after a nightmare. “I’m so tired.. I did my best to save them.. So they wouldn’t have to keep living like me. Can I sleep now? I’m so tired..”

“Yes, Yes Skull.. You can sleep. It’s time for you to rest.” He used his hand to lift the pale man’s chin and leaned down, kissing him softly. He felt the body slowly relax in his grip, and felt the pulse in the man’s lips slow to a stop. He drew back once the heart had fallen still, and set the body on the floor. He stood, and then bent down and slipped his arms underneath the body. When he rose, the body was still on the ground, but a transparent figure of a sleeping young man was in his arms. He held the tired spirit close to him, cradling it gently. He brushed a kiss across the man's forehead. “Come on, Skull. Let’s get you home.” He turned and carried the other through the veil.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I felt that this series needed a bit more Halloween spirit. Did I succeed? Hope you enjoyed!


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